


I Like You a Latte

by meils121



Category: Leverage
Genre: Bodyguard, Bodyguard Romance, Coffee Shops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 14:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13102170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meils121/pseuds/meils121
Summary: Eliot saves a couple from an assassin.  Things get weird from there.





	I Like You a Latte

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ravelqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravelqueen/gifts).



            Eliot can’t tell if he’s getting sloppy or if he just really likes the coffee at I Like You A Latte.  Either way, this is the fourth time this week he’s found himself sitting outside the cafe with a cup of coffee and a newspaper in front of him.  

            At least he’s not the only one who’s addicted to the damn coffee.  The couple is here again, sitting at their regular table two over from where Eliot sits.  He’s not spying on them, not really.  It’s just that they make him curious.  Okay, so maybe he’s spying on them a little bit.

            He’s learned that they own one of those companies that no one actually knows what it does.  Some sort of consulting firm that rakes in the big bucks.  He’s also learned that they’re a bit - weird.  They bicker about whether it’s harder to hack the CIA or steal from the Louvre, and Eliot’s not really sure what to do with that conversation.  He’s not entirely convinced they’re joking.  

            None of that really matters, though, when he sees the gun.  It takes him approximately half a second from relaxed and sipping his coffee to ready to fight.  It takes another second to realize the gun isn’t pointed at him but at the couple.  That doesn’t matter.  Eliot tackles the guy, slamming him against the ground and using his free hand to disarm the would-be assassin.  

            “Holy shit.”  Someone says, but Eliot’s more concerned with finding out why this guy is going after the couple.  They’ve always seemed harmless enough.

            “Who hired you?”  Eliot asks.  The guy doesn’t answer, and Eliot shakes him.  “Answer me.”

            “Iverson.”  The man finally says.  

            Eliot smirks.  “Was that so hard?”  He asks.  “If I see you around here again, you won’t make it back to your boss to explain why your arm’s broken.”

            “But my arm isn’t -”  The man cuts off with a howl of pain as Eliot expertly breaks his arm.  

            “Leave.”  Eliot orders.  The man stumbles to his feet, cradling his broken arm.  

            “Holy shit.”  The same someone says again.  Eliot turns to find the couple staring at him in what may be shock or could equally be horror.  

            “That was -”  The man starts to say when his girlfriend cuts him off.

            “Hot.”  

            “I was going to say awesome, but yeah, hot works too.”  The man says, and Eliot has never had anyone attempt to hit on him after taking down an enemy hitter.  But the slow once-over the woman gives his body can’t really be mistaken as anything else.

            “Can you be our bodyguard?”  The woman asks.  

            “You don’t even know who I am.”  Eliot snarls.  He’s got that post-fight adrenaline rush that has him a little on edge.  

            “Uh, you’re the guy who just saved our lives.”  The man says.  “And I’m Hardison, and this is Parker.”

            “Come back to our place.”  Parker says.  

            “Again, you don’t know who -”  Eliot sighs when he sees Parker’s face.  She’s got a pretty convincing pout.  “Okay, fine.  I’m Eliot.  Let’s go - talk.”

            It turns out that Parker and Hardison only live about a block away, in one of those downtown warehouses-turned-condos that are way out of Eliot’s budget.  The interior of the place is ultra-modern.  They settle in around the kitchen island that is probably the size of Eliot’s apartment.  The kitchen itself looks suspiciously unused, soon confirmed when Hardison opens the fridge and Eliot sees that the only things it holds are bottles of orange soda and a few takeout containers.

            “Do you eat any vegetables?”  Eliot asks before he can help himself.

            Parker frowns.  “Sorta?”  She offers.  “Sometimes I get broccoli in my Chinese food.”

            “That doesn’t count.”  Eliot says.  

            “Are you a bodyguard or a chef?”  Parker asks.  She squints at him.  “Or something else?”

            “Something else.”  Eliot answers.  

            “Well, you can be our bodyguard.”  Parker says.

            “Hold up, babe.”  Hardison slides a glass of water across the table to Eliot.  “I thought we agreed no bodyguards.”

            “That was before we met Eliot.”

            Eliot’s getting a bit of a headache.  “You want me to be your bodyguard?”  He asks.  

            “Yes.”  Parker says, and Hardison shrugs and echoes her a few beats later.  “And maybe you can make us vegetables too.”

            And, well, Eliot’s got nothing better to do.  And somebody needs to make sure these two don’t give themselves scurvy.  Eliot finds himself agreeing before he really knows what he’s doing.

            The matching grins he gets from Parker and Hardison are reason enough to agree.  

 


End file.
